This is my first attempt at a "Mind Control" story, so please be kind. There is very little sex in this chapter, but I promise it will build up in the future. As always, constructive comments and suggestions are welcome.
*****
When my divorce was finalized, I was faced with decisions to make. My kids had both grown, and were living on either coast. I had no real ties to the area that I was living in, as this was where my ex had grown up, so was there really a reason to stay?
After some deep soul-searching, I decided to move some place new and start all over again. The question was, where? As an electrician with over 20 years experience, I could easily get my license anywhere I wanted to go and start up a shop.
After living my entire life in Chicago, I decided that I was tired of the brutal winters and headed south. I settled a couple of states south east, in a small town in the mountains, just outside on the state capitol.
I bought some property on the edge of a lake, with my own private beach and a beautiful view of the valley below. It had a large house and a couple of out buildings that I could use as a workshop and storage for my business. I had my license soon after, and my one-man shop was up and running in no time. One of the other main selling points was that at the end of my long driveway sat the local, and apparently most popular, watering hole.
I also started dating again. At 45, and married for 20 years, I thought it would take me a while to get used to dating again, but the local women ... well, let's just say they made it quite easy to get back into the swing of things.
About a week after I moved down there, I decided to head to the bar one night to have a burger and a few beers.
I decided to stay and check out the band that was playing, and as I watched them, a short, buxom blonde, wearing a sleeveless blouse, a short jeans skirt, and wedge sandals walked up to me and asked me to dance.
"I would love to," I told her, "but I'm not much of a dancer."
"That's ok," she replied, smiling at me and taking my hand. "I know their set list, and the next song is a slow one. Even if you can't dance slow, all you have to do is hold on tight."
After telling me her name was Roxy, she pulled me by the hand and led me out to the dance floor.
"You're the guy that bought the house just down the road, aren't you?" she asked as we started to dance.
"I am," I replied.
"I thought so," she said, pulling me in tighter. "Welcome to town. I think you'll find it interesting living here."
"Thank you," I answered, wondering what she meant by 'interesting', but enjoying the feel of her big beasts pushing against the top of my stomach.
Having gone a couple of years without getting laid, I soon felt my blood starting to rush to my groin. Not wanting to freak out my new friend, I tried to pull my hips back a little.
Feeling me move, however, Roxy was having none of that. She placed her hand on my lower back, pulling me back to her and pressing her crotch against me.
"That feels nice," she whispered. "I like it."
"Ummm, thanks," I replied, not knowing what else to say.
The band ended their set after that song and took a break, so Roxy and I went back to my table. The waitress quickly walked up and I ordered us both a drink while Roxy excused herself to go to the ladies room.
A couple of minutes later, Roxy and the waitress both returned to the table at the same time. I stood, thanking the waitress as she smiled at me, and helped Roxy into her seat.
"Ohh, a gentleman I see," she cooed as she sat.
"That's just the way I was raised," I replied as I looked down her shirt, noticing that it seemed opened a little more than while we danced.
"Just not TOO gentle, I hope," she said, smiling at me over the rim of her glass.
Not knowing what to say, I just raised my eyebrows at her and picked up my beer.
A couple of hours, and quite a few drinks, later, with her hand sliding up and down my thigh, Roxy suggested that we leave.
Drunk and horny, always a dangerous combination for me, I agreed.
As soon as we walked out the door, Roxy took me by the hand and asked where I parked. After I told her that I walked, she giggled and handed me a set of keys. She then led me to her pick-up truck, parked in the back of the lot.
"I wanna see your place," she slurred. "I never been there."
Thinking to myself, 'What the hell? Why not', I helped her into the truck, enjoying the sight as she spread open her legs while she slid in, and then climbed in behind the wheel.
As I started up the truck, Roxy slid closer and began sliding her hand up my thigh again.
"Too bad it's such a short drive," she said in a husky voice as she squeezed my bulge. "I've been told I give great road head."
I looked over at her, shifted the truck into gear, and tore up my driveway, Roxy giggling.
The next morning, we both woke up naked on a double-wide chaise lounge on my deck. I felt completely drained.
"Good morning hot stuff," she said as she looked at me. "It was a long time for you, wasn't it?"
"Only a couple of years," I told her.
"A couple of years?" she asked, sounding shocked.
"You're the first woman I've been with since my divorce, and the last year plus of my marriage was sexless."
"Geez!" she replied. "What woman would give up a cock like that, especially when it's attached to someone who eats pussy the way you do?"
"Well, thank you," I said, chuckling, not even sure what happened the night before.
"Well, I will tell you this," she told me as she sat up, "you will definitely not be lonely OR sexless living here."
"There are plenty of single, horny, women who will absolutely LOVE to spend some quality time with you!"
"That's good to know," I told her, sitting up.
"And don't think you've seen the last of me, either," she continued. "I'm dying to see the inside of your house next time!"
I watched silently as she started walking around the deck, gathering her clothes and putting them on.
"I have to warn you, though," she told me a few minutes later, as I walked her to her truck while she buttoned up her blouse, "be careful of the Holly Hill sub-division, or as we call it, 'Holy Hell'."
"I haven't heard much about that area," I replied. "Why should I be careful of it?"
"That is where all of the Bible-thumpers live," she told me. "They are all stuck-up, holier-than-thou types."
"Lovely," I sighed. "Just like my in-laws."
"I'm sure you can get a lot of business out there," she went on, "but they will look down on you because you're not part of their church, and you've got long hair."
"That's ok," I said. "I charge more for dealing with arrogance."
Roxy laughed, and then said that she had to get home, but hoped to see me again soon, for a repeat, indoor performance.
******
A couple of months later, my business was picking up, and I received a call from the pastor at the Holly Hill Evangelical Church, asking me to come out and give them an estimate on a new service. After getting the address, I told the pastor I could be out that afternoon.
As I drove through the subdivision, I was reminded of the movie 'The Stepford Wives.' Everything seemed TOO perfect. Lawns were all uniformly cut, the kids I saw out playing were all, well, a bit TOO well-dressed and clean for kids out playing ... and even though I got a lot of stares, everyone waved as if they knew me all their lives.
Pulling up to the church, I was greeted by the pastor, who reminded me a lot of a used car salesman, just a bit TOO slick for my tastes.
I could see him looking me over and appraising my used truck and long hair as I walked up to meet him, but he acted cordial enough to my face, even with his "church lady" face.
He led me down to the church basement as he was telling me exactly what he wanted, where the electrical closet, such as it was, was located.
"You're the new fellow, aren't you?" he asked after I evaluated his needs. "The one that bought the old Fredrikson land?"
"That's me," I replied.
"Uh-huh. How are you finding it, living here?"
"It's different," I explained. "Growing up in Chicago, and living in the city my entire life, the rural life is taking a little getting used to. I like it, though."
